History of American Socialisms

In Short

This comprehensive survey functions as an autopsy of the numerous socialist and communist experiments that bloomed and withered across the United States between the early nineteenth century and 1870. Drawing on firsthand accounts, reports, and personal observations, the narrative meticulously tracks the rise and fall of movements inspired by thinkers like Robert Owen and Charles Fourier, alongside the more enduring, religiously grounded communities. By documenting the logistical, interpersonal, and ideological failures of these associations—from the land-mania of the Pennsylvania Phalanxes to the collapse of the celebrated Brook Farm—the text argues that secular attempts at social reorganization failed because they neglected the essential "regeneration of the heart." It remains an indispensable record for historians and curious readers alike, offering a grounded, somber look at the gap between utopian aspiration and human reality.

The Story

The narrative begins with the arrival of European socialist ideals on American shores, primarily through the influence of Robert Owen. Owen, an Englishman of immense energy, envisioned a scientific reconstruction of society that would liberate humanity from the constraints of private property and competition. His most famous endeavor, New Harmony, serves as the primary case study for the "Owenite" phase of the movement. Owen arrived with grand theories, expecting that removing the pressures of the old world would naturally allow for the emergence of a new, cooperative man. However, the experiment floundered quickly. As the narrative explains, Owen’s failure lay in his attempt to abolish traditional laws without establishing a spiritual foundation—a sense of grace—to hold the community together. He collected a motley group of people, many of whom were ill-equipped for the grueling labor of pioneer life, and failed to provide the consistent, fatherly leadership necessary to steer the ship.

Following the dissipation of the Owenite movement, the narrative shifts to the era of Fourierism, characterized by the "Phalanx" experiments. These associations were theoretically sophisticated, built upon complex systems of "passional equilibrium" and group dynamics. Intellectuals, writers, and dreamers flocked to sites like Brook Farm, hoping to synthesize high-minded culture with practical industry. Yet, the story here is one of tragic impracticality. The chapters detail how these reformers, often lacking agricultural experience, purchased thousands of acres of rugged, barren mountain land in Pennsylvania and elsewhere. They were frequently led by romantic notions that ignored the physical reality of carving a living from the earth. The narrative highlights the "land-mania" that afflicted these groups, leading them to sink their meager capital into rocky hillsides while neglecting the internal social cohesion required to survive.

Throughout these accounts, a consistent pattern emerges: the initial fervor of the "newness" gives way to the grinding reality of debt, poor harvests, and, most destructively, religious and social friction. In community after community, the lack of a shared, unifying belief system left members vulnerable to petty quarrels, disputes over labor, and a general malaise. Even where the leadership was well-intentioned, such as George Ripley at Brook Farm, the pressure of daily survival eventually overwhelmed the dream. When disaster struck—such as the fire that destroyed the Phalanstery at Brook Farm—the financial and emotional toll proved too great. The communities fractured, members slunk away to their old lives, and the experiments were abandoned to the "world."

The final arc of the book contrasts these failed secular experiments with the long-lived, successful religious communities, such as the Shakers or the Rappites. The author posits that the secular reformers were "not up to the times," as they failed to understand that man’s spiritual nature must precede his material organization. While the secularists sought to fix society from the outside in, the religious groups grew from an internal, shared "afflatus." The story concludes with the conviction that true association is not merely an economic problem to be solved by paper constitutions or joint-stock companies, but a spiritual one. The failures of the past are not dismissed as total losses, however; they are framed as necessary lessons that have planted a persistent, national hope for a future where revivalism and socialism might eventually harmonize.

How It Unfolds

The rise of Owenism The movement gains momentum through the charismatic efforts of Robert Owen, who attempts to transplant his European factory-reform models into the American wilderness. The narrative documents the rapid assembly of the New Harmony community and its equally rapid dissolution, establishing the primary critique of the era: that material restructuring is insufficient without a moral core.

The shift to Fourierism The focus turns to the rise of the Phalanx, a distinctively American attempt to apply the complex social theories of Charles Fourier. This section provides detailed accounts of various associations, emphasizing the intellectual fervor of their members and the specific organizational structures they implemented to manage labor and living space.

The reality of the soil A crucial middle portion of the narrative exposes the geographic and financial blunders of these groups, particularly their tendency to purchase isolated, barren mountain land. It serves as a grounded, often stark analysis of how romantic theories collided with the unforgiving physical demands of farming and infrastructure development.

The friction of daily life The narrative moves into the personal, internal struggles of the communities, using dialogue and reports to illustrate how minor disagreements—over religion, Sabbath labor, and administrative authority—eroded the foundations of trust. It portrays a slow, agonizing process of attrition as the "noble souls" are eventually outnumbered or exhausted by the practical realities of communal life.

The triumph of the religious The final movement compares the instability of secular phalanxes to the relative longevity of religious colonies. By examining these groups, the narrative establishes a theory of "spiritual conditions," arguing that only an intense, shared religious experience provides the necessary discipline and respect for authority to sustain a collective existence.

The People

Robert Owen stands as the central, tragic figure of the early movement. He is depicted as a man of immense genius and benevolence, yet blinded by an over-optimistic view of human nature. He arrives with the confidence of a reformer who believes he can manage a community as he managed his own factories, but he eventually succumbs to the logistical and spiritual chaos he fails to foresee.

George Ripley is the face of the Fourierist epoch, particularly at Brook Farm. He is characterized as a man of profound sincerity and hero-work, who genuinely attempts to live his ideals by manual labor. Unlike some of his literary peers who treated the movement as a "romantic episode," Ripley remains dedicated to the end, embodying the heartbreak of the intellectual who discovers that his dream cannot survive the harshness of the material world.

Warren Chase emerges as a persistent, practical voice of the Wisconsin Phalanx, providing a rare look at the business and financial realities of communal life. He is less concerned with grand theory and more focused on the day-to-day struggle of keeping a community solvent, yet even his efforts are eventually thwarted by the inevitable disagreements and the lure of dissolution.

Thomas Lake Harris, of the Brocton Community, represents the later, more esoteric phase of these movements. He is portrayed as a man who moves beyond the purely secular, claiming to act under the direct "leadings of God's spirit." His presence in the narrative highlights the transition from the failed Fourierist attempts to the rise of Spiritualistic, religious communities that the author views as the only sustainable model for collective living.

In Its Own Voice

"Owen got a company together and abolished law, but did not establish grace; and so, necessarily failed."

— C.A. Burt provides a concise diagnosis of why the secular experiments of the Owenite period were doomed from the start.

"The Socialisms were imported from Europe; while the Revivals were American productions."

— The author draws a sharp distinction between the failed social theories of the Old World and the domestic spiritual movements that he believes are the only path forward.

"It may safely be assumed that Providence has presided over the operations, and has taken care to make them instructive."

— This observation in the preface frames the entire history not as a series of random failures, but as a deliberate, divine lesson for a nation still searching for its social destiny.

What It's Really About

The book is an argument for the primacy of the soul over the system. Beneath the detailed accounts of failing mills and bankrupt phalanxes lies the fundamental question: can humans truly live together without a higher, unifying spiritual authority? The author contends that the fundamental error of the American socialist movement was its secularism. By focusing exclusively on the "third link" of the human crisis—industrial labor—the reformers ignored the "first link," which is the restoration of the soul’s relationship with God.

The text posits that human selfishness is the constant, immutable force that no "paper constitution" or "joint-stock company" can overcome. Therefore, the argument goes, any attempt at association that does not begin with an internal, spiritual transformation is merely an exercise in rearranging the furniture of a burning house. The book is an exploration of why the "good time coming" remains a mirage, suggesting that the dream is only possible when the "noble and lofty" are separated from the "scamps" through the rigorous, transformative tests of religious commitment.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of American idealism, intentional communities, or the intersection of faith and labor will find this volume deeply engaging. It offers a rare, panoramic view of a period often romanticized by modern observers, yet here presented with the gritty, unvarnished detail of someone who lived through the era and understood its failures from the inside. The prose is warm, precise, and remarkably candid; the author does not shy away from the embarrassing, petty, or chaotic realities of these groups.

Be aware that the text reflects the mid-nineteenth-century period in which it was written. The author’s own religious convictions are central to his analysis, which may feel jarring to a secular reader looking for a purely economic or sociopolitical history. Furthermore, the narrative is dense, packed with names, dates, and reports from long-forgotten periodicals, which demands a patient, attentive reader. One must be prepared for the author’s idiosyncratic, highly moralized view of "human depravity" and his occasionally dismissive tone toward those who did not share his vision of "Bible Communism."

However, the reward for this patience is a profound sense of "being there." You will walk through the damp garrets of the phalanxes, hear the voices of the disappointed members in their dialogue, and feel the weight of their failed ambitions. What stays with you is the haunting, recurring image of the "saw-mill"—the inevitable, often failing infrastructure that these idealists believed would launch a new world. It is a cautionary tale, but one that is strangely hopeful, reflecting a time when people were so intensely dissatisfied with the status quo that they were willing to risk everything to build an alternative. For anyone who has ever wondered why our collective dreams so often fall apart, this history provides a mirror to the limitations of human nature.